


Shot in the Dark is a Shot to the Heart

by Librarity



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Dessert & Sweets, Feel-good, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Librarity/pseuds/Librarity
Summary: Who would have thought Oswald Cobblepot would be trying his best to enjoy things like espresso? Well, that was what the little pitter-patter of the heart could do, now wasn't it? It seemed it was, at least, because there he was, coffee in hand while he smiled up stupidly at those big blue eyes.
Relationships: (Background) Barbara Kean/ Leslie Thompkins, Harvey Bullock & Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Gotham-X-Change-2020





	Shot in the Dark is a Shot to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackArticFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackArticFox/gifts).



Coffee Shops and bars normally weren't connected, found in very different ends of a block, but this little establishment broke tradition and the typical stigma. There was a thick, well-insulated wall between the two, holding in the noise of one and the ambiance of the other, but the owners were one and the same. It was sort of like Applebee's or a bar and grill with one in one location and food in the rest, or in this case, a wall and coffee. You could get to the bar from the Coffeeshop via the big old metal door with its surprisingly clean window, and vice versa. 

Oswald was ninety percent sure the kitchen where no one could really see was also connected to the other side. It was, in fact, the kitchen that had gotten him in the door. Or, well, no, that was not true. Oswald found the Coffee shop when Gabe went to get a bottle of something stronger than espresso and asked if Oswald wanted tea while he was in there. That sparked questions, which sparked going in.

Gabe said the baked goods were to die for, and they were, but that was not the only thing in there that could stop a heart. He never expected to be a regular in a coffee shop, particularly not one with **'Shot in the Arm'** in big, bold lettering on one side and a charming script on the other entrance that read: ' _Shot in the Dark'_. If nothing else, the collaborative names would have clued Oswald in that they were a strange joint venture and that alone would have been enough to likely catch his attention. But _'Shot in the Dark_ ' had something stunningly glorious ' _Shot in the Arm_ ' did not. And also coffee with sweet confections, but that wasn't the point.

The point was a stunning creature in a dark blue apron, hair of spun gold swept back like some old-time movie star his mother liked to gush about. Even if 'Jim' - as he read on that shiny name tag the second he was close enough- had not been a rather marvelous, if not strictly inventive baker, he would have come in every day anyway. Going broke at this little business would be a pleasure he had every intention of sustaining for the next fifty years if at all possible. If anyone tried to force them out, Oswald would remove their heads with his own hands.

Jim Gordon, as he learned in time, was a partial owner of the little coffee shop; for his sanity, he'd said, and his nerves. It seemed that whatever he did before the opening was a highly stressful occupation he was not at all willing to elaborate on. Jim, for all his flashy smiles, quick wit, and overflowing charm, was a secretive sort of person. He was not foolish enough to fall under the illusion that he knew the beautiful man even though it had become a habit to come in each day. Sometimes, if they were busy, he was not allowed more than to simply watch the fluid, fast, efficient motion of Jim's unfairly perfect body. He worked alone but even a sudden rush did absolutely nothing to cause him to be ruffled or stressed.

Oswald was not a coffee aficionado; did not know where the best coffee beans were from, what roast was beast for what, or how to prepare the espresso. He knew nothing. At all. He actually didn't even like coffee, though the scent was really growing on him now that he had something pleasing to mentally tie it to. He favored his teas and on those, he could have actually given anyone a run for their money.

Even so, there he sat with some sort of frothy coffee concoction in a cup. It had nothing to do with him being adventurous, branching out, expanding his tastes, nor anything else one might expect. He had one because Jim, the intensely attractive, soft, warm, calming barista ball of sunshine had offered it to him.

He offered it because he made too much for the customer before. That was a rather frequent thing he did, and then he would always come out from behind the counter with a little cup and smile, "Hey, would you like to try this? Fresh off the press. Made too much." And Oswald couldn't ever turn it down, he always accepted and praised Jim's skills. Even if coffee wasn't his preference, it didn't matter, because it was Jim's; the man always had his own cup of coffee close at hand. 

The dreamy blonde bombshell with those arms, that voice, those hips with that sway.... could frankly get him to drink poison if Jim offered him that sweet though impish smile at a moment's notice. Jim could murder him and he'd die happy. 

He had never loved a little business more, in truth. It was a unique, calming, tranquil, charming aesthetic in the one, with a tacky Irish pub on the other side. And he did not come for the pub, he could promise anyone that much, though he would never admit the truth of why he did. He came for the white flour sometimes smudged on the tip of Jim's nose; the brown sugar speckling his round lips if he tried a bit of batter before it was ready; the talks they stole while things were still and quiet; the scent of Jim's personal musk he occasionally caught under all that coffee filling the air.

He also came for those moments when the traffic was at a standstill and the man would go back to prep for the culinary side. He would watch what he could while Jim was making the next day's special and would curse under his breath about having forgotten to add the vanilla. When Oswald would laugh, Jim would look over, sheepish and adorably shy at being caught. Jim was a very inventive baker, he'd learned, with a very loose grasp of measurements and a firmer grasp of going with his instinct. Things turned out delicious somehow, but that seemed to be Jim's brand of magic. Jim insisted he was a rubbish cook, but a decent baker, and for some reason, Osald believed him on it; mostly because he'd seen the real food Jim snuck when none but Oswald was around.

He felt closer to Jim than he felt to anyone besides his mother, and even she had noticed a change in him no matter how he tried to hide it.

Gertrude's long, frilly sleeve swayed as she shook her finger at him. _"You've found someone, didn't you, my precious boy? Your eyes... they have a sparkle to them! You can't hide it from me, a mother sees."_ She'd told him smugly with her thick Hungarian accent that she never shed even after so long in Gotham.

 _"No, mother. I'm not even dating anyone."_ He'd denied it mainly on reflex, so used to doing so every time she assumed in her motherly adoration that all the world wanted to get in bed with a beak nose freak. 

" _But you found someone you want to date, didn't you?"_ She persisted, a knowing twinkle in her dark eyes, " _Someone special."_

She was right, he could feel the change. He was more giddy and happy these days. For what though, really? He knew the chances of Jim feeling anything for him in return were... astronomically low. He could let his imagination run away with him all he liked, pretend the kind things Jim did held hidden meaning, but in the end, he was self-aware enough to realize the futility.

His idealism about their relationship had been rather shattered when he had seen a well dressed, curvey, curly blonde leaning up over the counter to display her cleavage more easily last week. They seemed to know each other even if Jim did not really take any of the obvious bait 'Barbara' was flaunting. The interaction gave off the most distinct impression of past and possibly estranged lovers but it made Oswald realize the simple truth; if Jim could have someone like her, he would never settle for someone like him.

It was for that reason he planned to stay away but had yet to work up to it. He was selfish by nature and depriving himself of something he desired, like seeing Jim, was difficult.

He stared down at his rather decadent blueberry muffin with that feeling of futility creeping in again. He hated when reality encroached on those lovely, warm, bubbly feelings he had become accustomed to when in the shop. He would rather remain there in that nice space than face the inevitable of getting his heart broken. He glanced around for anything to keep his mind off his problems and landed on the wall art of the rather expected coffee cups and coffee bean decor.

The ambiance of both places, oddly, was apparently almost totally to be attributed to Scottie, whomever Scottie was. Jim hadn't actually offered details on that, a bit like it was information Oswald should simply know. It seemed Scottie was one of the main people in charge of the bar as well as seemingly coming up with the combination as some sort of compromise to some unnamed indecision. He had seen a man with thick facial hair and scraggly, somewhat long hair enter through what might be a secret door in the kitchen to steal confections from the cooling stands while Jim squawked at him to get out. Possibly that was Scottie but the coffee shop seemed so far beyond a man such as that. The red-haired woman that usually was the one to drag the scruffy man out could have been a better candidate. That still left the third one unidentified.

He kept meaning to look into all of them but then he sort of tended to forget anything and everything the second Jim looked into his eyes and offered one of those smiles of his; those smiles did things to Oswald since the second he looked up into one as he was welcomed in as a new patron. Jim was just... stunning in an otherworldly sense. He was also kind and thoughtful even if it was subtle in addition to his quiet and secretive ways. Oswald was, to put it delicately, utterly besotted. That had been clear for longer than he cared to think about. His mother never talked about love at first sight or soulmates but she had talked about love and finding that love. Romanticism, perhaps, but that did not in any way stop his heart from beating ever so fast when he looked at him and got one of his soft, familiar looks in return.

The great love icon, Marilyn Monroe herself had said; "The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space." Oh, Jim could do that and more! His heart palpitations did not even require Jim looked at him, only that he existed. Even in the current cold weather, where the wind could cut through even a good coat, when he was on his way to the coffee shop, he truly felt warm. 

Oswald felt like he was in middle or high school every time he nearly lost his breath when their fingers brushed as he handed him his order- or any of the little extra drinks. Most of the time he could not even keep a blush at bay, but he could blame the chill for it, at least. It was thrilling and made him feel like a fool at once.

Distracting himself was made more difficult when the object of his musing slid onto a stool beside him, his lovely voice tickling Oswald's senses, "I ordered some new teas."

Oswald tried to keep an adoring smile off his face, "Oh, did you?"

"You always order tea." Jim said by way of explanation, then tried to elaborate, "Jasmine, black tea, white tea, hibiscus, peppermint, that sort of thing. I thought you might like those as more variety to my meager collection."

It was absolutely absurd, but Oswald was touched by that gesture, "That was so thoughtful of you! Thank you, Jim. Though you shouldn't worry, I'm fond of earl grey too." Someone cared enough to pay attention, and that was so rare for him outside his mother. Or Jim was trying to keep him interested to get the continued business, and that could also be true.

Jim shrugged, "I'm not always too observant but I catch up eventually."

Did that mean he noticed Oswald didn't actually like that coffee? Had he been trying to find one Oswald did like by getting him to sample different kinds? Or was that a little outlandish as far as theories?

He didn't get the chance to ask because the rush hit and Jim was busy for the next hour, at which point Oswald had to leave. He did also have to work no matter how he would have loved to spend every second of the day wrapped up in Jim's presence. Still, he had a kingdom to build for himself and this was just a bright spot in his day. He would be back tomorrow. As always.

* * *

Oswald was in fine spirit when he walked in the door, but only up to then. There was a woman talking to Jim in a hushed tone and the man's face was so shuttered nothing could possibly have gotten past, as if he'd mummified just standing there. She was stunning, even Oswald noticed that. She was even more striking than the blonde woman he had seen on other occasions, with dark hair, piercing eyes, and sharp features a model was likely to have, almost alien in it. Oswald didn't move and the conversation wrapped up without him hearing a word and the woman stormed away. She looked upset as she walked by him, but when he looked back at Jim, he saw that he looked worse. He was bent over the counter, head hung low like something was dragging him down. 

Oswald swallowed and moved closer to the counter warily. He wasn't sure he should but it was not in his nature to really leave things alone when someone he cared for was distressed. "Jim?"

The taller man did not lift his head, he just took a long breath, "Do you ever just think... even if no one is happy about it, you made the right call? Lee and I, we weren't good for each other. Maybe at the start, but things changed. I stifled her and she smothered me. I wasn't... who she thought I would be, and she couldn't understand that I never would be. It was a dead-end with no good direction, and I did the best thing for her to end it. So why do I still feel guilty?"

Oswald wasn't sure what to offer, he had no idea what their history was, but he was sure, maybe selfishly, that Jim shouldn't be with her. "Sometimes the right choice is the hardest."

The door to the bar opened rather abruptly, making both of them jump, and a smarmy, smug man walked in. He was far inferior to Jim's looks and he reminded Oswald of a rat you would find in a sewer. Jim drew himself up to his full height the second he saw him. This seemed to be yet another person Jim did not want to see today.

"Flass," Jim ground out.

The man offered a greasy smile, "Hey, Jimmy! Hows the coffee kingdom coming? Do you still see a lot of the old crew? We _real_ cops do love our coffee, after all, to keep our _real_ hectic jobs from wearing us out."

"Is that why you drink coffee?" Jim faked surprise, "I thought it was to keep the Captain from smelling the whisky on your breath."

The man chuckled, "Always a witty one, Jim. I almost miss that around the station. But ya know, you were a bit too witty, weren't you? Loeb never has liked the kind of wit you can't help throwing out. But hey, at least you can still live vicariously through any of us that come in with a good story to tell."

The man with a beard came in about as suddenly as the Flass character, "Get out! I told you to stay out of here or I'd put you out on your ear!"

Flass made a face of mock sympathy, "Still so protective of your baby partner here even after he took you down with him, Harvey! You'd still be with us if not for him."

Harvey's voice was edged and almost dangerous as the woman, the other owner, rounded the corner behind him, "Jim and I are both a hundred times as good as you have ever been, and if you don't leave, we'll give you a demonstration."

Flass put up his hands and back away, "Alright, I'm going! You don't have to go pappa wolf."

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Or a fist either! But get out and don't be coming around again." Scottie lifted her chin, eyes narrowed.

The man grinned like it was a personal victory, but he did leave without another word.

Harvey moved around the corner, "Sorry, Jim, I didn't notice him in time."

Jim shook his head, "Nothing to be sorry for."

Harvey put an arm around Jim's shoulder, "Do you need a hug? We can give you a hug." He motioned at Scottie and she hurried around too, both of them ignoring Jim's protests and sandwiching him between them in something that did not look at all comfortable. Jim probably needed it, or at least something. 

"It's a partner hug, it doesn't count as affection." Scottie insisted, "You men and all your rules."

"Hey, you know I'm a very sensitive man in touch with my softer side." Harvey insisted and she simply shook her head.

"Yeah, well, we've still got customers, so we'll need to be getting back around to that now that the trash is out."

They moved around the counter and Oswald found himself backing toward the door. It was so much information to take in at once, too much, in fact. Jim was a cop. Former cop. This was... terrible. Why did he do things like this to himself? Why did he always have to love what he could not possibly have? Was it a masochistic tendency that drove him to this?

He took in a steadying breath, noticing the shake in his fingers. He needed time to think and also to find out what on earth he might be getting himself into. He never went into things blind and that had been a mistake. Not wanting to know to avoid the later disappointment when Jim found someone was simply a misstep. In truth, this was probably a sign that he should run away from this the way instinct told him he should all along. He couldn't continue on like that, pining for someone he did not even know a thing about. If he stayed, he needed to know what he was staying with. He needed to know what he was doing when things turned into a further disaster.

While he did not run away then, he also did not return for some time. Jim hadn't spoken once the entire time he had been there that last time; he was distant and robotic, entirely withdrawn. It only lent to the determination to know and understand the things Jim had never expressed. A criminal could not simply fall in love with a detective without knowing all there was to know.

When he finally came back it was with understanding under his belt, and also a very public reveal on the news about the many misdeeds of Arnold Flass to bolster him. And, actually, Loeb was just about to get his own time to shine in a few days. Oswald couldn't help himself, he'd always been a gift-giver in his own way. This was a silent offering, one he likely would never tell Jim about, and yet he felt... accomplished for it; possibly like he had earned his way back.

Jim looked up when he entered, his expression shifting instantly into something like relief, shock, and happiness. "Oswald."

"Hello, Jim." Oswald smiled shyly, not sure what he should say about his time away.

"I didn't think you were coming back." And it was almost a heartbreaking revelation even if so little emotion shown on Jim's face because it was always about subtle revelations with the man that had to be watched for.

"I couldn't stay away," Oswald told him honestly, quiet in his admission.

"I'm glad. I didn't know how to find you." Maybe Jim hadn't thought out those words before he said them considering the way he swiftly ducked into the kitchen after.

Oswald took his seat in his usual spot with a sigh. That had been... a bit confusing and had gotten his emotions a bit topsyturvy after he'd worked so hard to control them. He'd been doing so well and a few words from Jim had him right back to schoolboy with no effort from the man at all. It was in no way fair!

Though when Jim returned it was with a steaming cup of something that smelled positively wonderful, and very obviously tea. There was a plate filled with several little goodies as well, more than he ever ordered, for certain. A welcome back gift, possibly?

Jim set the cup and plate down and slid into the seat beside him, leaning his direction without looking at him, which seemed slightly odd. Jim was never much for words, not the way Oswald was, so Oswald had been slowly learning to read things from all those unsaid things he did, but this was thus far baffling him. He could feel the warmth of the man and that also was not at all fair, it made him wish he was closer.

"This might be presumptuous, but I've had a long day already, and I missed seeing you every day. So... how would you like to catch some dinner? With me? Not here, obviously, I'll be closed. I mean at a place." Jim fumbled for words, "Do you like pizza? Italian? Wait, that's the same thing... French? Chinese?" It was endearing how awkward he could be.

Oswald stared at him for a long moment, making Jim fidget, but then he couldn't help a baffled little chuckle, getting nervous himself, "Are you... asking me out?" That would be preposterous, but he still had to be sure.

Jim took a quick breath, "Yeah. I am. I don't usually do that. Asking, but yeah."

Oswald gathered himself, trying to push past the shock and all the doubt. This could be a joke, a prank, or maybe Jim meant it as friends. Maybe he didn't. Still, Oswald would never forgive himself if he let this moment get away. He was positively giddy at the idea of being able to just be with Jim anyway, even if it wasn't real, or didn't mean anything, he would take it.

"I like all of those things," He offered shyly, "Though I'm sure nothing compares to your baking. I would be happy with anything if you're accompanying me."

Jim's smile was glorious, "Then I'll surprise you!"

* * *

True to his word, every day was a surprise with Jim. It still was even after years together and rings on their fingers. Surprise was an integral part of all the things surrounding Jim. Just for an example, having two of Jim's ex-girlfriends ask them to attend their wedding; it would seem, according to both women, without their shared outrage with James, they never would have found each other.

It was a surprise to be invited when Oswald and Jim had decidedly left the "I hate Jim Gordon club" off their wedding invitation list. Still, it was a lovely wedding, actually, since Lee and Barbara had rather lovely taste; lovely even with Harvey nudging Jim and whispering snide comments the entire time, getting himself what Oswald bet was bruised ribs from Scottie; thank goodness for that woman.

At least the two women seemed in love if that kiss they shared after the vows was any indication at all, or the way Lee danced with Barbara at the reception, both lovely together. Also, interestingly enough, a bit of a mirror of Jim and Oswald themselves in some ways. 

He and Jim had their ups and downs from their first date on, as one might expect, and as being in love with Jim Gordon was bound to come with. Jim would always have the law in his blood and Oswald would always have the underworld. However, it was good, a sweet remedy to battling Gotham's tiresome mornings; like the caffeinated drink Jim was so fond of, he gave him the lift he needed to conquer life’s duties. What those were... well, he had his secrets.

He never fully learned to love coffee and Jim never fully learned to enjoy tea, but they learned what they could share with practice.

Oswald didn't regret a moment, even if he was never one to feel secure in a good thing lasting, he'd never felt so safe with anyone as he did Jim. Jim was his rock in a changing sea as well as his harbor. Jim had proved on many occasions that he would always be a protector, and for those he loved, he could be a lion.

There were fights, because of course there were when two immeasurably stubborn and opposing sides went head-on, but they got past them. Jim stormed off on him, leaving him to cry over the loss, but then he always came back. Obstacles weren't insurmountable as they sometimes seemed, and no matter how angry Jim became, he still crawled into their bed to hold Oswald close each night. That was what Oswald learned, really, in all of it... love always found a way back.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, it's all set very loosely in seasons one and two, with many obvious changes. Ending is a little rushed, I know, but I didn't want it to be too long. Merry Christmas!


End file.
